


(Happy to be) stuck with you

by evakuality



Series: Stuck with you [3]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-30 12:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: So I've been writing this on and off for a few weeks now.  I had considered doing something like this in the original but then decided it didn't fit.  So that meant it gets its own fic all to itself.  I'm posting this short first chapter here and now for day two of the Skam Fic Love Fest, dedicated to the lovely Sarah and Arin who have made this all possible.  It's the closest to 'snippet' I have for the Inspiration day.  The other chapters are coming along though not quite ready to post yet, so think of this as a teaser for what's to come.  The rating relates to a later section, but it is coming.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strangetowns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangetowns/gifts), [arindwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arindwell/gifts).



> So I've been writing this on and off for a few weeks now. I had considered doing something like this in the original but then decided it didn't fit. So that meant it gets its own fic all to itself. I'm posting this short first chapter here and now for day two of the Skam Fic Love Fest, dedicated to the lovely Sarah and Arin who have made this all possible. It's the closest to 'snippet' I have for the Inspiration day. The other chapters are coming along though not quite ready to post yet, so think of this as a teaser for what's to come. The rating relates to a later section, but it is coming.

Jonas is annoyed.  Isak can feel it, bubbling out of him as he sits with his back to Isak and his finger planted in his textbook.  It’s shut and Jonas is ostensibly listening to Isak, but the irritation is there in the lines of his back, the set of his shoulders, and the determined way he isn’t making eye contact.  Unfortunately, Isak can’t help it any more than he could help it back when he had no idea that Even was just as into Isak as Isak was into Even. His stress is pouring out of him in a huge wave of babbled, some might even say garbled, comments.  Which is completely unfair, because Isak is sure Even isn’t moaning into the unwilling shoulder of any of  _ his _ friends.  No, Even is probably off being cool and suave somewhere.  Unlike Isak, who is a raging mess. And okay, so Even is a dork more often than not, Isak knows this.  But there are times, and Isak is sure this is one of them, that he pulls off being effortlessly cool. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Isak says, forcing himself to stop pacing.  He plops down on the bed and leans his back against the wall of Jonas’ bedroom.  It’s a different room this year, since Jonas moved out of home finally, but it’s so similar in the way he’s set it up that there’s almost a sense of deja vu as Isak has this conversation.  The content of what he’s stressing about may be different, but the feeling is the same. That feeling whispers at Isak, as always, and insinuates that he’s really not good enough for Even and never will be.  Because apparently Isak’s brain is  _ still _ an asshole, even after a year of togetherness. “It just needs to be perfect,” he adds by way of explanation.

Jonas sighs, the motion forcing his body back against the chair he’s in, and he turns to face Isak finally.

“I know,” he says, and Isak is gratified to notice that there’s at least a tiny bit of sympathy in his voice and in the small tilt of his lips.  That sympathy suggests that Isak isn’t just being an annoying asshole again, which provide relief for a few seconds anyway. But then the exasperated irritation seeps in again as Jonas adds, “and it  _ will _ be.  You’ve been obsessing about this for weeks now, there’s no way something isn’t going on in that brain of yours.”

Isak huffs his own irritation.  “You can’t know that,” he says, then reverts to his usual point of stress.  “Even’s things were so  _ good,” _ he groans.  “It was impossible to figure them out.”

The amused snort Jonas gives at that is frankly quite rude, and Isak grimaces and glares at his friend.  It’s not polite to laugh at your friend’s despair. Even  _ was _ so good at this, and by comparison all Isak’s ideas have been seriously shit.

“I’m sorry, Isak,” Jonas says when he catches a glimpse of Isak’s face.  He looks genuinely sorry too, for which Isak is silently blessing him because  _ thank you. _  Finally someone admits how fucking hard that whole time had been.  But then Jonas’s face splits into a smug grin and he adds, “but literally everyone else had worked it out.  You were just too stupid to see it.”

“That’s not true,” Isak protests, bristling at being called stupid.  It wasn’t his fault Even was so damn good at acting, and also so perfect and beautiful that he made Isak’s head spin and sent his senses into overdrive.  Anyone would have been fooled by all the times they got stuck together. Anyone in Isak’s position, anyway. “He had a girlfriend, and everything was so plausible.”

“Plausible, okay.”  Jonas rolls his eyes and turns back to the book.  “Whatever.” He flips to a new page in a clear dismissal.  “Your thing will be fine, I promise. Just stop overthinking.”

Which is probably the most impossible thing Jonas has ever asked of Isak, he thinks grumpily as he slouches down further on the wall.  It’s been almost a year since the day Even had squeezed in next to Isak on the Ferris wheel, they had finally talked, and Isak’s life has been a fucking dream ever since.  So when he’d got the idea to make a similar gesture for Even on that anniversary, Isak had thought he was the most genius person who had ever existed. It was the perfect idea!  It would remind Even of how they met and how ridiculous they had both been, would appeal to his dorky romantic side and  _ also _ be really sexy.

Unfortunately, the day is inching closer and Isak still has no fucking idea what he’s going to do.  How can he generate a situation where he and Even are ‘accidentally’ stuck together that’s private enough for what Isak has in mind?  He has several ideas that would be easy to carry out, but all of them carry a risk of ending up with public embarrassment and/or arrest for indecency.  He needs something really good, something that will make Even melt the way Isak always does whenever Even even breathes near him,  _ and _ that will allow Isak to carry out his sexual fantasies for the day.  It’s just not all that easy, and Jonas has been no help at all. Not that Isak has exactly told him about the sexual fantasies part, which is possibly why Jonas doesn’t understand  _ why _ it’s actually close to impossible to figure out rather than just normal levels of difficult.

Fretting, Isak lets Jonas go back to his studies, while his own mind whirls every idea around again to see if maybe this time one of them stands out as the perfect one.  The one that will do everything Isak needs it to do. It’s not a particularly successful exercise, which makes sense since he’s already done this at least a hundred times.  That doesn’t stop it from pissing him off that he can’t make it work. He settles more firmly against the wall and insists to his brain that it’s just going to have to buckle down and work this out, no fucking excuses.  Even deserves the most epic anniversary to ever exist and Isak’s damn well going to make it happen.


	2. Chapter 2

The actual day of Isak’s doom (no, Isak firmly admonishes his brain, the day of their first ever anniversary which involves no pressure at all just lots and lots of togetherness and affection) dawns bright and clear, sun streaming in through the window where they’d forgotten to shut the curtain, and Isak’s heart is thumping in his chest from the moment he wakes up.  Which is fucking ridiculous. Not to mention annoying. How’s he going to last an entire day with his body on high alert and his senses screaming at him? He was supposed to enjoy this, dammit. But apparently Isak has terrible self preservation instincts, even now, because no amount of stern intervention is having any effect on his body’s stress response. 

Worse, there’s Even, snuggled into his back with his face buried in Isak’s hair and his arms wrapped around his body as if they belong there.  And Isak can’t enjoy it. They hardly ever get to wake up like this because of some rigid rules Even’s family has for him;  _ overly rigid, _ Isak thinks on his most grumpy of days.  And okay, maybe they make sense since Even always feels best when he uses routines to keep him stable.  But that doesn’t mean Isak has to like it. So here they are, snuggled together in the morning for once, and Isak’s stupid body is just plain working against him now.  He wants to revel in this, but he’s so tense that he can feel the rigidity in his spine even as he wakes. Because apparently his asshole body has been stressing about this while he slept.  

He groans, and the movement that generates is enough to jostle Even out of his sleep.  Isak feels a soft chuckle against his neck and shivers. After all this time, feeling Even’s breath whispering over his skin right there still does things to Isak’s equilibrium.  Right now, Isak is torn between loving the feeling and being really fucking annoyed that his stupid fucking body can’t let him enjoy it.

“Happy anniversary,” Even murmurs sleepily as he shifts a little.  His arms tighten around Isak and he moves impossibly closer, dragging Isak in so he can drape his leg over Isak’s.  Despite himself, Isak feels a little calmer. Whatever happens,  _ that’s _ still the important thing.  It’s their anniversary, and they are together.  Nothing else really matters. Though having this go-to plan actually work would be much better than not, since Isak is determined to retain the title of best boyfriend ever.  Not that he’s competitive or anything, despite the many mutterings Jonas has made on the subject, but more that he’s determined to make this the best day Even’s ever had. Not in a competitive way, but more in a loving, caring way.

“Mmmm,” he says, shivering again as Even’s lips caress his neck.  “Happy anniversary, baby.”

He stretches, letting his body press back against Even’s as he does so, and laughs as Even protests at the sudden mop of hair that invades his mouth which he’d been trying to use to kiss Isak’s ear.  Isak feels the hard line of Even’s dick where it’s pressing into his ass, and he can feel his own stirring in response. Maybe he should just ignore his plans, Isak thinks. They could stay here, warm in their bubble, and just fuck all day.  That’d be a good anniversary too. But Isak has what Jonas once called ‘a streak of stubbornness as big as Oslo’ and he’s not going to let himself be side tracked by a dick, no matter how much he happens to love that particular dick.

So he reluctantly wriggles a little until he can see Even, while not being quite so thoroughly connected to his body, presses a kiss onto his lips and says, “we need to get up.”

The only real consolation for the dismay that idea creates in Isak, is the way Even groans too and pulls him in close again.  “Do we have to?” he whines as he runs kisses up Isak’s neck in the way he knows turns him into a compliant ball of mush. Or usually does anyway.  But today Isak is determined, and he’s really not going to let Even and his sexy body, luscious lips and pleading eyes stop him from achieving his goal.  So he pushes back a little and nods.

“We do, yeah.  I have plans.”

“Plans?” Even asks, immediately intrigued if the new glint in his eye is anything to go by.  “Sexy plans?”

Isak laughs.  “Is that all you ever think about?”  

Even presses his dick against Isak again and raises his eyebrow.  “Not always,” he says. “But right now? Yes.” 

“Well, some of us have more self control,” Isak says, sniggering as he sees the affronted expression on Even’s face.  “My plans are much more developed than that.”

“Non-sexy plans?  Seriously?” Clearly, Even knows Isak too well, because it’s obvious by the way he raises his eyebrow again, and in the teasing lilt of his voice, that he has correctly worked out that those plans definitely include sex.

“Mmmmhmm, plans,” Isak says, avoiding answering the actual question and melting into Even’s embrace.  He has everything figured out, knows exactly what time they have to leave to make this work, and yet he can’t resist the soft warmth of Even’s lips or the heady trail of his fingers over his hip, for long enough to get them moving.

“Do those plans include lazy wake-up-with-your-hot-boyfriend morning sex, though?” Even asks, nuzzling into Isak again in a way that’s almost distracting enough to derail Isak’s perfectly formulated plans.

“Nope,” Isak gasps out as he tries to laugh.  “But if you play your cards right, you might get afternoon sex, or evening sex, or …”

“Might?” Even pouts, running his fingers along the curve of Isak’s ass.  “It’s my anniversary, baby, and you’re giving me a might?”

Isak huffs another laugh, almost helpless under the spell of Even’s touch.  “It’s my anniversary, too, and I made plans.”

It takes a lot more persuasion, and several more bone-melting kisses, before Isak manages to get Even out of bed, through a very distracting but very thorough shower, and into his clothes.  He checks his phone and almost yells when he sees the time. They’re cutting it very fine to get where they need to go before Isak can’t guarantee his partner in crime will be there. Technically, it would be fine without the help, but Isak doesn’t want technical, or fine.  He wants perfect. So fuck Even for being so adorable and distracting and using his kisses against Isak. He knows exactly how to get Isak so worked up that he doesn’t pay attention to anything else. 

So when they leave Isak’s room, he refuses to engage in small talk with Eskild on the way out, yelling, “sorry, Eskild, no time for guruing today,” as he rushes Even past and out the door.  He magnanimously ignores Eskild’s commentary on what they might be getting up to. Mostly because they have no time left, but at least partly because this is their anniversary and Isak is a saint and he doesn’t want Even to feel uncomfortable the way he always does when Isak and Eskild have their ‘discussions.’  As if he knows exactly what Isak is doing, Even is laughing, but allowing himself to be tugged along behind Isak.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Even asks eventually, as he cheerfully follows behind Isak’s purposeful strides.  His lanky legs make him look like he’s out for a stroll, and the sight of those legs encased in his most spectacularly skintight jeans draws Isak’s eyes more often than not.  But Isak can’t let himself be distracted by the many perfections of Even’s body so he forces his eyes firmly onto the path ahead, and clamps his hand in Even’s in case he thinks of dropping back.

“Nope,” he says, and speeds up as much as he can.

It works, kind of.  They arrive at their destination only a few minutes later than Isak had intended.  But he’s panting, he can feel the telltale dampness under his arms, and knows his hair is probably a goddamn mess.  When he chances a glance at Even, though, he’s looking at Isak with such heart-stopping fondness that Isak’s breath catches.

“You’re seriously doing this?” Even asks.  There’s so much affection in that voice that Isak swallows the sudden burst of emotion that wells up in him.  Fuck Even for always doing this to him, for making him melt with the merest glance. It’s completely unfair, just as much now as it was all those months ago when Isak was pining and didn’t know that Even was pining right back.  To cover up the way he’s feeling so unsettled and off balance, Isak snorts.

“What?  You think you’re the only one who can be all romantic and shit?”

“If the shoe fits, baby,” Even says with one of his terrible winks.  Then he pulls Isak in towards him and wraps his arms around his waist.  “How are you so perfect?” Even mutters.

“Natural charm, I guess,” Isak says, laughing as he slides his own arms around Even’s shoulders.  He’s still not used to the easy way Even drops compliments like they’re nothing. It’s still hard for Isak to say what he means rather than hiding behind grumpy sarcasm, but Even never seems to care.  He just smiles, hears the real meaning behind everything Isak says, then showers him in compliments as easily as he breathes. 

Isak’s about to try to say something deep and meaningful when there’s the sharp sound of someone clearing their throat behind them, and he jumps.

“Jesus fuck!” he says, spinning around to see Mikael grinning at them from the door of the small building they’d first been trapped in so long ago.

“Honestly, you two are a lost cause,” Mikael says and Isak rolls his eyes.

“Is it all okay?” he asks, anxiety leaping up again in case Mikael is here to say something has gone wrong.

“God, Even.  He really is as bad as you.  You totally deserve each other,” Mikael says, earning himself a rude gesture from Even, and laughing as he steps backwards inside.  “Here. Come see for yourself.”

Resisting the urge to poke his tongue out at Mikael, because he’s a grown up person and way above that sort of behavior, Isak follows him inside, still holding firmly onto Even’s hand.

Inside, it’s exactly as he’d planned.  Isak has spent far too many hours here turning it from a dank dusty dungeon and into something he’d want to spend more than a few minutes in.  At first, the caretakers had been reluctant to allow them to spend any amount of time in there, but Mikael had stepped in with his charming smile and his easy manner and managed to convince them that a cleaner place was worth a few students doing some work in there for a film.  Not that there’s an actual film, but it seems like it’s a reason the caretakers are willing to believe. Or Mikael is just that convincing an actor. Isak is, for once, totally on board with other people’s stupidity because it allowed him to make this space into the romantic anniversary destination he’d been dreaming of.  

Suddenly overwhelmed, Isak stands back and allows Mikael to lead Even into the room.  He hears Even’s gasp and delights in the way he spins to look at Isak, his eyes ablaze and his mouth open in joyous wonder.  “How did you do it?” he asks, and Isak is about to respond when Mikael lets out a bark of laughter.

“He did it by turning me into a work horse,” he says.  “He’s a real slave driver, much worse even than you.”

Isak blushes.  “I just wanted it to be--”

“Perfect?” Mikael says.  “Yeah, we know. You only mentioned that once or twice.”

“It was worth it though,” Even says, dragging Isak into his arms and grinning at him.  “It looks amazing.”

Isak looks around and admits to himself that it really does.  Gone is all the dust that had puffed up with every step, making Isak’s eyes water and choking him.  In its place, the stairs to the basement are lined with candles, glimmering softly in the dim light and casting a warm glow over the walls.  He can see the wires snaking out from each one and breathes a sigh of relief. Getting electric ones had been the most difficult part of this process, but he was insistent; no way was Isak going to risk setting the place on fire when he finally gets to turn his attention firmly onto Even.   His sexy attention. And Isak’s self aware enough to know that once they get naked, he’s not exactly going to be worried about fire hazards, so he made sure that past Isak did what needed to be done to keep them safe. He chuckles a little at the thought, and Even squeezes him, silently asking what’s so amusing.  Isak shakes his head, unable to articulate that particular thought out loud, not with Mikael here. 

He moves forward, trying to see further into the space they worked so hard to create.  They have to get several steps down before Isak can see the low table he’d personally placed there, surrounded by glowing lights as well, and the mattress tucked into the back corner, within reach of the low table but set back enough that it can fulfil the purpose Isak really intends for it.  Both have been added to since he was here yesterday. The table is now covered with a silky cloth and there are plates and utensils gleaming in the dim light. The various foods Isak had selected for portability and ease of eating are sitting on platters in the middle. The mattress now has a duvet covering it and several very comfortable looking cushions scattered across the wide expanse.  Finding and choosing those cushions was one of the headaches Isak had eventually delegated to Jonas, and it looks like he’s done a great job. And Mikael has definitely come through with the decorating. It all looks wonderful and Isak catches Mikael’s eyes over Even’s shoulder and mouths, “thank you,” at him. 

Mikael nods, then tilts his head in the direction of the door.  He wiggles his eyebrows at Isak, imitates a blow job with his hand, and sniggers softly when Isak rolls his eyes in response.  Still laughing, Mikael backs up the stairs, then out of the door and starts to close it behind him. It squeaks, a loud noise in the silence.  Panicking, worrying that Even will figure it out before Mikael is finally gone, Isak drags him into a kiss. Even’s laughing as their lips connect so Isak’s 99% sure he’s already failed.  But the opportunity to kiss Even isn’t one Isak’s going to pass up anyway so he just pulls Even in closer and lets his mouth open. Even, of course, responds. His enthusiasm is contagious, and suddenly their bodies are flush.  Isak can feel the new interest Even’s dick is showing and he grins internally. This is going pretty much exactly as he’d planned (well, apart from the not-eating-first part), and he’s going to take every advantage of it even if Mikael is probably still watching.

Everything is just getting interesting, Isak’s grinding his hips against Even’s and he’s just managed to elicit a deep throaty moan from him, when the room is plunged into almost total darkness, there’s the clunking sound of a key turning in the lock, and Even starts back in surprise.  Unfortunately that start is so vigorous it puts a foot or two between them and Isak is cursing his supposedly-fantastic idea for ruining the moment. That’s what he gets, he thinks grumpily, for trying to be romantic and cute. 

Even’s eyes are crinkled and gleaming in the light from the candles, his face is split in a wide grin, and his laugh rings out in the sudden stillness surrounding them.  

“You seriously got us locked in here?  Again?”


	3. Chapter 3

There’s fond amusement in Even’s voice as he says, “you seriously got us locked in here?  Again?” and Isak laughs.  He moves back into Even’s space, takes his face in his hands and nods.

“I was so desperate that day.  Wanted to know what kissing you would be like, but you were so cool and so unattainable.”

As if to dispel the lingering ghost from that day, and proud of himself for actually managing a compliment this time, even if it is for past-Even, Isak presses another kiss to Even’s lips before pulling back to smile at him.  Even closes his eyes and lets a long sigh escape as he leans his forehead on Isak’s.

“I was dying inside,” he admits and the words send a shiver through Isak.  He loves being reminded just how much Even was affected too. It makes him feel like much less of a ridiculously sappy useless asshole that Even was at least as bad.  “I’d finally got you alone to talk to but I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t let on how much of a mess I am.”

“You’re not a mess,” Isak says, letting his body relax so they’re standing pressed together, and running his fingers down Even’s jawline and onto his lips.  The urgency from before is gone, but the way their bodies are pressed together is still heated, and Isak can feel Even’s dick pressed hard against his. He enjoys the way Even’s skin reacts to the slide of his fingers, and the shuddering gasp Even lets out.

“I kind of am,” Even says, his voice hitching as Isak’s fingers linger over those lips.  His eyes are glowing, though, and Isak can tell he doesn’t _really_ mean what he’s saying.

“The biggest dork to ever live, maybe,” Isak says, casually, allowing himself to curl his finger in the hair behind Even’s ear.  “But not a mess.” He pulls back a little, grins at Even. “Now,” he says, giving in to the desire to kiss Even, “I told your friends not to bother us for a couple of hours.  I can think of better things to do in that time than argue about whether you’re a mess or not, but if you really want to spend the day that way, I guess I could--”

He’s cut off by another kiss from Even, this one harder, the urgency returning, and Isak chuckles against his mouth when he pulls back a little to breathe.

“I can’t believe my asshole friends helped you do this,” Even says, and now his hands are sliding under Isak’s t-shirt, and Isak’s finding it hard to speak.  It may have been a year and they may do this far more often than even Magnus thinks is realistic or believable (which … fuck him to be honest; Isak can’t help it that Even is the hottest person to ever walk the earth and that he can’t keep his hands to himself whenever he’s around).  But even after all that time, Even’s hands still turn Isak into molten wax as they roam over his body. It would be embarrassing just how easy it is for Even to do that, if it wasn’t for the fact that Isak can do the same to Even with just the slightest press of his own fingers. Which he demonstrates to his own satisfaction by pressing his fingers into the dip of Even’s hips and watches as his eyes darken.

“They were very accomodating,” Isak gasps as Even kisses him on the neck again.  He can feel his dick twitching in his pants, a Pavlovian reaction to Even’s ministrations.  “Also helped me set up.” He waves an arm around, reminding Even of all the hours he spent toiling to make this place dust free and moderately pleasant to be in.

“Isak,” Even says, drawing back enough so he can look into his eyes, “do you really want to talk about my friends?”  He kisses Isak again, pulling him close and letting Isak feel exactly how affected he is too. “As you can see, I have a magnificent boner going on here, and the thought of my friends is killing it a little.”

Isak laughs.  “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Even quirks his eyebrow at Isak and grins, smug satisfaction on his face.  “I’d rather be full of you,” he says, and Isak can’t hold in the frustrated groan at the look in those eyes.  But he also rolls his own, because Even’s puns are always terrible and he’s always so gleeful when Isak sets himself up for one.  And even if it _is_ their anniversary, Isak’s not letting Even know just how fond he is of those stupid jokes.

“You’re the worst!” he says, but negates any sting by dragging Even closer and allowing himself to grind against Even’s dick again.  It makes him moan in a very satisfying way, and Isak chuckles.

He’s not in the mood for teasing either, not anymore, so he runs his own hands up under Even’s shirt, and kisses him back.  There’s a small chance the caretakers might find them here, and the idea that someone might catch them makes it all the more sexy.  Isak’s senses all feel heightened by the risk, so Even’s hands slipping into the back of his jeans and cupping his ass feel more like fire than ever.

The plan had been to have the food Isak had prepared and then have the sex, but right now Isak doesn’t give a fuck about food.  He just wants Even naked and pliant and willing. So there’s a thrill of satisfaction when Even throws back his head and mutters, “fuck,” as Isak plays with his nipples under the shirt.

“Too many shirts,” Even says when he’s composed enough to look at Isak again.

“Mmmm,” Isak agrees, reluctantly lets go of Even for long enough to pull his own t-shirt over his head, and admires Even’s body as he removes his.  He reaches out and traces the planes of Even’s chest, letting his fingers slide over the dips and hollows as he drifts down towards his waistband.

Even’s watching him, his eyes dark and his mouth sliding open in protest as Isak pauses.  He’s no better, Isak knows. His lip has unconsciously been pulled in between his teeth and he can’t drag his own eyes away from the hint of hair that’s peeking above Even’s jeans.  He slips his thumbs in under the band of Even’s jeans, feels the heated skin and the way his dick strains against the confines of his underwear. Just a little further in and Isak would feel Even’s dick firm against his fingers.  The idea makes his own dick twitch and he takes a shuddering breath, forces himself to stop, to check in with Even. What he sees just about destroys him. Even’s flushed now, his chest heaving and his eyes fixed on Isak’s with an intensity that’s mesmerizing.

“I can’t help noticing,” Even says with a small grin, and clearly trying to retain his cool demeanour (with, Isak is pleased to note, very little success as his body shivers under Isak’s fingers), “that there’s a handy bed here where there was none last time.”

“That’s a--” Isak gasps as Even skims his neck with his teeth again, “a remarkable coincidence.”

“Mmmmm,” Even agrees.  “It’s almost like it’s fate.  Like there’s something we should do with it.”

Isak laughs, lets his fingers slide further inside Even’s pants until he can run them lightly along the shaft of Even’s dick.  It has to be light, he can barely fit his hand in there given how tight those jeans are. Isak curses Even’s tendency towards fashion since it hampers his own efforts.  “I have no idea what you could mean,” he says, trying to be suggestive and exciting but (if Even’s infuriatingly cocky grin is anything to go by) apparently not managing very successfully, probably at least in part because his fingers can’t do much as squished into the jeans as they are.  “I believe I suggested that morning sex was off the agenda.”

“Fuck,” Even says, his voice a soft whine as Isak’s fingers keep up their unhurried movements, so maybe the lack of maneuverability isn’t so bad after all.  Even cups Isak’s ass, slipping his own hands into the back of Isak’s own (much looser, because Isak isn’t as much of an asshole as his boyfriend apparently) jeans and letting the fingers drift until they snag on his rim.  Isak’s body convulses, all his senses focused now on that one point. “You’re not serious, surely,” Even adds.

“No,” Isak manages to mutter as Even follows the ass squeezing with more neck kissing.  “Of course I’m fucking not.” He pulls his hands out of Even’s jeans to work at the fastenings.  He pushes ineffectually at Even’s clothes, before stepping back in frustration. “Get these clothes off or I’m going to explode.”

“You’re going to explode anyway,” Even says, wriggling his brows as he makes the joke but obligingly peeling the jeans off himself.  Isak groans watching him, then makes quick work of his own jeans as he allows himself one more eye roll, stepping out of them as fast as he can because keeping his hands off Even’s body right now is just beyond the realms of the possible.  Isak had thought once that staying away from Even was too much to ask because he was but one fragile man and helpless against Even’s charm and attractions. That’s still true. Being this close to Even and his body and not doing anything with it is too much to ask of someone as weak to Even’s effects as Isak is.

Once Even is safely back in Isak’s hands (literally; Isak takes hold of his dick again as soon as humanly possible), Isak sighs his relief.  Even’s hands are back on his ass, and once again Isak is struck by how _big_ they are.  There’s a stability and a surety there that makes Isak’s bones melt and his body weak.

“Sooooo …” Isak says, squeezing gently and suggestively after a superhuman effort not to get carried away drowning in the sensations Even is producing, “you were saying something about a bed?”

“Uh …” Even says, and his eyes when Isak looks at his face are glazed and distant.  “Yeah, bed sounds really fucking great.”

Then somehow he manages to extricate himself from Isak’s grasp, and flops onto the mattress.  Isak can’t help the fond ache that wells up as he looks down at Even lying there splayed out, his legs slumped wherever they fell and his dick still bouncing from the impact when Even’s body hit the mattress.  Isak can’t figure out how he got this lucky, to have someone like Even looking at Isak like that. He’s still admiring the lean lines of Even’s body and the gloriously crinkled smile he’s giving Isak when Even reaches his hands out and makes a grabby motion.

“You’re far too far away, baby,” he says, pouting.  There’s a glint in his eye that belies the expression and Isak laughs, lowering himself to the bed (much more fluidly, if he does say so himself).

“I can’t believe I used to think you were so cool and suave,” Isak says, plonking himself on Even’s thighs and leaning forward to give him another kiss.  “I felt like such a stuttering incompetent idiot by comparison.” He sits back a little, lets his ass rest on Even’s thighs. “But you’re actually the biggest dork alive.”

 _“Sexiest_ dork alive,” Even corrects him.  “And I want to make some use of this magnificent boner I’m still sporting before it gives up and goes away.”

Isak smiles, lets all his cheekiest thoughts bleed into the smile, and then turns so his ass is hovering above Even’s mouth, his dick tantalizingly close to the wet warmth.  Just as he’s about to lean down, Isak says, “as if this would ever disappear when I’m around.”

Before Even can respond, Isak takes Even’s dick into his mouth.  It drags a gasping groan from Even and Isak feels a smug satisfaction that he can make Even feel this way.  Before he can feel too complacent about his skills, however, he feels a tongue lapping at his rim. It startles him, makes him lose his rhythm, letting Even slip from his mouth as he groans and presses his ass back.  Isak can feel Even’s own satisfaction in the small chuckle he gives at Isak’s response. He’s not sure how Even can be so damn surprising every day, and yet here he is. That tongue is getting bolder, running long lines from Isak’s balls up to his rim and back, and it’s not long before he’s shuddering, the sensations firing at every point Even’s touched.  Even’s always been good with his tongue, and Isak has made an embarrassing amount of noise on more than one occasion because of it. But he’s never had this from this angle and it’s … _really fucking good_ , and his knees are maybe shaking a little with the effort of keeping him upright.

In retaliation, Isak focuses on giving his best blow job, which is saying something.  He is, Isak is pleased to note to anyone who’ll listen (which is basically just Magnus now that the others are totally sick of hearing about how great his life with Even is), actually really fucking good at this.  He’s always been able to reduce Even to a quivering mess with a few well-aimed swirls of his tongue around the head of Even’s dick. Today is no exception. The tongue on his ass is distracting, and Isak does pause from time to time to revel in the way it’s now darting inside occasionally, firing up every inch of Isak’s skin that it comes near.  But that doesn’t stop him. No, this is his anniversary, and he’s going to make Even feel good if it kills him (and that tongue is getting close to killing him, with its small laps and gentle sucks which send prickles of energy through Isak in an unpredictable rhythm which is close to overwhelming, but Isak is nothing if not persistent and stubborn).  So he deliberately slows down, sucks hard and holds for as long as he can. His tongue is pushed against the slit at the top and the suction makes it press tight. Soon, Even’s tongue stops moving and he moans, salty precome bursts onto Isak’s tongue and he finally pulls off with a pop.

He drops his head, lets his cheek rest against Even’s dick, enjoying the musky scent now that Even’s beginning to sweat a little.  It makes Isak feel good, powerful almost, that he can do that to Even so easily. The skin around Isak’s rim is cool now, and he shudders as Even’s breath whispers over it, cooling it further and contrasting with the fiery heat pooling in his dick and in his belly.  They’re both breathing faster, Isak’s chest is heaving from the effort of keeping his legs taut enough that he doesn’t collapse onto Even, and Even’s legs are trembling beneath Isak’s hand.

Now that they’ve stopped for the moment and Isak is able to take stock, he knows he can’t stay in this position any longer; his legs are not strong enough.  He rolls so that they’re both lying, side by side. Even’s dick is still in Isak’s hand, which he’s quite proud of. There have been times when he’s lost control of what he’s doing when Even’s done something particularly spectacular with his tongue.  But today, they’re both still affected, and yet Isak has managed to stay enough in control to achieve this. Isak gives one lazy swipe of his own tongue to Even’s dick and gets one in return on his.

“Fuck,” he manages, as the sensitive flesh reacts, sending waves of heat crashing through Isak’s body and making his balls tense up in a dangerously familiar way.  “If you don’t stop that you might not get to be full of me after all.”

‘Oh.  Well. That _would_ be a tragedy,” Even laughs, then shuffles, pulling on Isak until he has them both how he wants them.  Today, that seems to be lying with their chests aligned, noses running soft lines along each other and dicks firmly pressed together, giving not quite enough friction to send Isak over the edge, but enough to keep him panting and desperate.  Even kisses him then, one hand firm on the side of his face and the other caught behind Isak’s back. Isak can taste himself, his own musk, on Even’s lips. It’s something he’d never thought he would enjoy before they started, but over the last year with Even it’s something he’s come to rely on.  It always gives a sense of connectedness he’s never really felt at any other time.

“Do you have lube?” Even asks, breathily as he pulls back from the kiss.  Their noses are still together and Isak can feel the soft breath as Even speaks.  He snorts.

“Baby, do you even know me at all?  Of course I have lube.” He reaches over the side of the mattress and fishes the lube out from where he’d stashed it last night.  “How do you want it?” Isak asks, once he has his fingers coated.

In response, Even lies back and spreads his legs, holding his own thighs wide so Isak has easy access.  It actually takes his breath away how much trust Even shows him. It’s easy sometimes for Isak to get caught up in his head, for him to second guess every fucking thing they say or do in case it proves that Even is still far too good for him.  And yet, here Even is, open and honest in every possible way. A lump forms in Isak’s throat as he looks as his ridiculous, charming boyfriend laid out on the bed so willingly.

“Stop overthinking this, Isak,” Even says, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice and his eyes are crinkled when Isak looks up to meet them.  “Just get your fingers in me already.”

“Demanding,” Isak says with another chuckle as he leans forward to kiss Even and runs his finger around his rim at the same time.  Even’s soft sigh makes Isak snigger again. He can go from snarky comment to soft and pliant in seconds. It’s just one of the many perfections that Isak has discovered since they got together.  It doesn’t take long before Even’s ready, his body rocking urgently against Isak’s fingers and a low whine in his throat.

“I want you on me,” Isak says, and infuriatingly he can hear the breathy plea in his voice.  Even can hear it too because he laughs and nods; he knows, the asshole, exactly what it does to Isak seeing Even towering over him when they have sex.  Thankfully today he’s refraining from commenting on Isak’s predictability. They wriggle on the bed to get into a comfortable spot, rucking the duvet up in the process, but Isak can’t bring himself to care.  He leans back against the wall and holds his hands out to Even who laughs and settles so he’s hovering over Isak’s dick.

“You ready, baby?” Even asks.

“Always,” Isak says, and he would cringe at just how horribly cheesy that is if it wasn’t for the fact that Even’s eyes are glowing as they fix on Isak’s and that his grin has become even more crinkled and even more devastating.

Taking that as the permission it is, Even pushes down, one arm firm around Isak’s neck and his eyes holding Isak’s in a steady gaze while the other hand holds Isak’s dick in place.  It’s such a rush of love that overtakes Isak in that moment that he groans a little as Even fully seats himself on his dick.

“Isn’t groaning my job,” Even laughs, with a small panting gasp at Isak’s first slow thrust.

“Equal opportunity groaning, baby,” Isak says, trying to keep his cool confident manner up, but failing miserably if the breathy, shaky sound in his voice is any indication.  “You feel so good like this.”

Even circles his hips, and the resulting pressure on Isak’s dick makes him groan again and drop his head to Even’s shoulder.  “Fuck,” he manages to get out, and in the circumstances Isak feels like he’s being amazingly coherent even managing to say an actual word, but Even just laughs.

“Is that all you can say?” he teases, rocking his hips again.  Isak retaliates with a thrust of his own which makes Even moan in his turn.   _Must have hit just the right spot then_ , Isak muses feeling smug and doing it again to see if he can make that sound recur.  It works; soon Even is babbling nonsense words as he moves and Isak is too much in love to keep up any pretense of competitiveness.  He just loves the way this feels, Even on his dick, their chests pressed together, and sloppy kisses punctuating every movement.

“I love you,” he murmurs into Even’s slick skin as he slips back a little against the wall, gaining leverage so he can thrust properly rather than leaving it all up to Even.  The changed angle makes both of them groan, and all thought of talk flies away. At least, it does for Isak. Even’s tongue has loosened and now he seems keen to keep up a running commentary, noting how it feels _(so fucking good, baby)_ , how hot Isak looks _(like a statue, a Greek god, a masterpiece)_ , and how much he loves both Isak and his dick _(it’s perfect, baby, just like you)_.  Normally, Isak would find that a little bit odd, an interruption in the race to their climaxes, an unusual intrusion into their moment.  But today, he’s so filled with love, so happy to be here with Even, that he’s almost more turned on (which, to be fair ... Even is pouring out some fucking sexy comments into Isak’s willing ear).  Each of Even’s pronouncements is punctuated by a roll of his hips, or a breathy kiss on Isak’s mouth as he pushes back into Isak’s thrusts. It’s a lot and it doesn’t take long before Isak is panting, his thrusts erratic as he gets close.  

In the dim light of the room, Even’s sweat-slicked body above his is so beautiful.  His eyes crinkle as he looks down at Isak and the affection in them is what does it.  Isak tenses as his orgasm rushes through him, laughs softly (some might say giddily, but Isak doesn’t care) at his own sappiness as his body shudders through it, all while keeping his eyes fixed on Even’s.  Even who’s still moving, pushing down onto Isak’s now-softening dick as he chases his own release. Still breathing heavily, Isak takes hold of Even’s dick and strokes. He tries to keep his movements leisurely, wants to draw this out, make Even’s experience as perfect as Isak’s was.  But Even huffs an aggrieved moan.

“Isaaaaak, come on.”  He emphasizes what he’s asking for with a thrust into Isak’s hand.  Isak takes the opportunity as Even rises so he’s settled just at the tip of Isak’s dick to bend so he can lick the end of the dick in his hand.  Even whimpers, thrusts up into Isak’s mouth, chasing the feeling with breathy pants. It pulls him off Isak, but he stays where he is, one hand braced on the wall behind Isak, the other firmly on the back of Isak’s head, guiding him back to lick again.  

While he could make a snarky remark right now about impatience and over-eagerness, Isak can’t resist the look in Even’s eyes.  It’s a mixture of pleading and worship and Isak is completely gone. So he takes him into his mouth and sucks. Even groans, his hips jerk, and it’s only a few swirls of Isak’s tongue and one or two strokes of his hand before Even has tensed and he’s spurting into Isak’s mouth.  The salty bitterness bursts onto his tongue, and Isak swallows, making sure he gets it all. This has never been his favorite part, but Isak knows Even loves it, loves the way it feels as Isak’s tongue moves as he takes it in. So he does it willingly, wanting Even to feel as good as he can.  Particularly today.

Isak lets go once Even’s finished, desperate to see what his boyfriend looks like.  Because that part is his favorite: the way Even looks just after he’s come, satisfied and flushed, sweaty and sated.  For his part, Even is breathing heavily as he hovers over Isak. His hand is still on the wall, but his head is hanging down and he’s lost in his sensations.  There’s a beautiful flush over his chest, his hair is damp at the edges, and his eyes are closed as he rides it out. Isak can’t help it; he’s consumed with love.  And yes, he’s aware that makes him about the sappiest asshole on the planet. No hummed declaration of intent can compete with _that._  Again, Isak doesn’t care.  It’s his anniversary and he’s allowed to feel sappy.

He runs his hands up Even’s sides, delighting in the way the skin ripples in the wake of his fingers and then Even’s eyes are open, he’s dropped so he’s sitting in Isak’s lap, his blue gaze is focused on Isak and Isak is suddenly sucked right back to the moment.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” he whispers, smiling as Even ducks his head to capture his lips.

“I love you,” Even says.  “So fucking much. I can’t believe you did all this.”

And that, Isak muses as he allows himself to kiss Even again, is worth every tiny moment of stress he’s endured these last few weeks.  The unabashed love in Even’s eyes and in his voice is everything Isak has ever wanted, and he can’t believe he actually has it. That he’s had it for an entire year.  

“You deserve it,” Isak says, letting everything he’s feeling show in his face.  “I’d do this every day if I could.”

Even laughs, a soft, fond thing that says so much.  But his words when they come are teasing. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Isak agrees.  “But I’d want to. Doesn’t that count?”

Even sniggers, lets himself fully relax into Isak.  “It’s a start,” he says. “Not everyone can be a master at romance like me.”

“Asshole.”  Isak slaps Even’s ass, making him yelp.  “Carry on like that and I won’t let you eat all this delicious food I organized.”

“Oooh, a threat is it?” Even asks, affecting nonchalance, but the rumble of his tummy gives him away.  He laughs, drops his head into Isak’s shoulder, then sighs. “I guess we should get sorted and eat something then.”

By the time they’re dressed again and snuggled on the remade bed, dipping into the food Isak has laid out (or, if he’s being pedantic, that Mikael and Jonas had laid out), all Isak’s earlier stress and worry has completely gone.  It was all worth it, for the look in Even’s eyes and the trip down memory lane. He’s just sighing in appreciation, and allowing himself to congratulate himself on a job well done, when there’s a clank in the door at the top of the stairs, the hinges creak, and a cheerful voice rings out

“Is it safe?” Mikael yells down.

“Fuck off!” Even yells back.  “Don’t interrupt perfection.”

Isak preens internally.   _He thinks this is perfect,_ he thinks, allowing a smug grin to bloom on his face.

“Oooh, food!” Mikael says as he makes his way down the stairs.  “Budge up, and let me eat.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Isak says, sitting up and glaring.  “This is our time and we’re not sharing it.”

“Wow, ungrateful,” Mikael says as he grins down at them.  “As if I’d even want to interrupt the love session.” He shudders theatrically.  “I’m just letting you know, I’m out. Door’s unlocked, so don’t get up to mischief and just … shut the place up after yourselves.”

“Yes, Mamma,” Even says, bowing ironically at his friend.  That earns him a roll of the eyes and a grumble, but Mikael nods at them and backs out of the room, throwing the key down the stairs, its metallic ting echoing in the enclosed space for a few seconds after he leaves.

In the blessed silence that remains after the door shuts behind him and the key stops spinning, Even smiles at Isak.  “Now, I believe you were about to feed me some delicacies,” he says.

“You wish,” Isak answers, but he snags a strawberry and holds it out to Even anyway.

As Even leans forward to eat it from his hand, holding Isak’s eyes the entire time, Isak thinks this really is perfect.  The two of them together. _They’re_ what matters, and for as long as Even wants him, Isak will be happy to be stuck with him.  The how and the where don’t matter; they really could have stayed home and fucked all day. Still, Isak thinks as they sink further into their own private universe again, this is nice too.  No-one to bother them and all the time in the world. Maybe even enough time, Isak thinks as Even’s face crinkles into its glorious smile and his expression smooths into a delighted joy as he successfully grabs the berry, for another test drive of the mattress.


End file.
